


just the two of us. well, three of us.

by writerwren



Series: where do we go from here? [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Office, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, assistant!Hermione, boss!Remus, from someone who's never been to seattle, it's a seattle au, they all work at dumbledore's tech company
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27431947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerwren/pseuds/writerwren
Summary: a collection of moments throughout Hermione's pregnancy + the blossoming of Hermione and Remus' relationship(sequel to where do we go from here?)
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin
Series: where do we go from here? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004151
Comments: 18
Kudos: 67





	1. week eight

A bag of dried apricots sat open on the desk, which Hermione was slowly nibbling on while responding to emails. Dried fruit was just about the only food she could stomach at the moment. That fact that even the smell of bacon sent Hermione into a state of nausea was making it quite difficult to enjoy breakfasts with Remus, who Hermione could tell desperately wanted to be with her and make her comfortable.

_ Curse this morning sickness that’s actually all-day sickness. _

Hermione wondered if she’d ever get to the good parts of pregnancy. There had to be some good parts, right?

She glanced towards Remus’ office to see if he had finished his 11:00 call, but she was surprised to see that his blinds were closed. Remus  _ never _ closed his blinds. He thought it made him less approachable as a boss. And yet, Hermione only saw the faint reflection of herself in the glass.

As if he was reading her mind, Remus called out, “Hermione, can you come here, please?”

She rose from her chair and walked into his office. “Do you know that your blinds are closed?” she asked, thinking that maybe a custodian had closed them and he had simply forgotten to open them again. But she could’ve sworn they were open when she came in that morning…

“Yes,” Remus said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “Please close the door.” His face was perfectly calm, not a hint of his usual humor anywhere as he rose from his desk and came towards her.

Hermione shut the door, concern etched on her face. Before, she had been confused. Now, she was worried. “Remus, what’s going on? Is something wrong?”

Her flurry of questions was cut short by Remus firmly cupping her jaw and pulling her lips to his. She gasped at the sudden contact, and she soon found herself pressed up against the closed door. His hands trailed over the sides of her breasts, leaving goosebumps along her skin. When Hermione’s lips parted slightly, Remus bit her bottom lip and pulled. Their chests were pressed together, rising and falling in synchronized gasps. Hermione dragged her nails down the smooth fabric of his shirt, and her leg came up to hook around his waist. When she dug her heel into his back, Remus groaned and pressed himself closer to her.

“I think this is what many people would consider ‘not safe for work,’” Hermione breathed when Remus broke away to nip the skin below her jawbone. He only hummed in response as he focused his efforts just behind her ear. Hermione shivered, clutching his shoulder blades.

Remus was tracing the outline of her blouse with his lips when the phone rang, a jarring noise that knocked Hermione back to reality. She slid down from where Remus had been holding her and went to check the caller ID while attempting to steady her breathing.

“It’s the CFO of that new start-up we’re working with. Albus said he’d be calling to set up a meeting with you.” Hermione’s words came in shallow gasps as she pulled down the edge of her dress that had ridden up her thighs.

Remus stood with his hands on his hips, chest heaving for air. “Can’t you just call him back later?”

Hermione shot him a look that said,  _ Nice try. _ She took one final deep breath to calm her racing heart before picking up the phone. 

“Hello, Remus Lupin’s office,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound too out-of-breath. “Hi, Omar. Yes, Albus told me you’d be calling.” Remus leaned against the sofa and gave her a peculiar look. “It looks like he’s available for lunch next Thursday at noon. Great, he’s looking forward to it. Take care.”

She hung up and looked at Remus, who was still smiling at her in that odd way. “What?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“What?” She laughed, unable to suppress a smile.

“I just like watching you work,” he said, coming to rest his hands on her hips. “Reminds me of your brilliance.”

“I’d hardly call scheduling a lunch meeting ‘brilliant,’” she retorted.

“Maybe not. But it also doesn’t make you any less brilliant. Any time I see you is a time I’m reminded of your brilliance.”

She smiled and kissed him tenderly. “You know,” she said when she pulled away. “People are going to start to notice if you make a habit of closing your blinds and calling me into your office to make out.” This certainly wasn’t the first time Remus had pulled a stunt like this, and she strongly suspected it wouldn’t be the last.

As if remembering that they weren’t alone in his apartment, Remus began to smooth out Hermione’s hair, which had been subject to some serious mussing and tugging. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, and Hermione’s heart swelled. He raised his eyebrow in the way that signaled to Hermione that he was going to make some kind of witty remark, but he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

They instantly jumped apart, smoothing out clothing and hair and erasing all evidence that anything other than strictly work-related activities had taken place in Remus’ office. Hermione’s heart pounded in her chest, every worst-case scenario of what could happen next running through her mind in one panic-stricken movie reel. Even Remus had alarm written in his eyes.

“Remus?” called a voice from the other side of the door. “Are you in there?”

“Make it look like you’re doing something,” Remus whispered to Hermione as he went to sit at his desk. Hermione picked up a stack of files that she had meant to come grab anyway. “Yep, come on in,” he called out to the intruding voice.

In walked Filius Flitwick, head of the Communications Department. “Oh, Remus, you startled me! Hermione said I could stop by for the final numbers for the Davidson Project, but then your blinds were closed, and I can’t even remember the last time that happened.”

Remus glanced almost imperceptibly at Hermione. “Yeah, must’ve been a custodian or something,” he said.

“I just came in to get these,” Hermione waved the files she was holding, “and Remus’ lunch order, so I’ll let you two chat.” 

Hermione had nearly made it to the door when Filius said, “What are you ordering? I could always use some recommendations, and I know you both have excellent taste.”

She instantly regretted adding the lunch order thing. Thankfully, Remus chimed in. “I’m getting the chicken parm sandwich from that Italian place over on 6th, Maria’s. You can never go wrong there.” But then Remus seemed to forget they were talking to a coworker because he looked over at her with a knowing smile and said, “Of course, Hermione can’t eat anything right now because–”

“Uh,” Hermione interjected, trying not to sound too suspicious. “Because I haven’t been feeling well the past few days. You know how cold season is.”

Filius seemed to realize there was something he was missing from the conversation, but couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Hermione highly doubted that “Hermione has morning sickness from her pregnancy with Remus’ child” was high on his list of hypotheses.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Filius said with puzzled eyes. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thanks,” she said, attempting to smile reassuringly. When Filius turned away from her, Hermione looked at Remus as if to say “Were you really about to flat-out tell Filius about the pregnancy?” Remus’ expression was all the answer she needed. She just rolled her eyes as she left his office, breathing a quiet sigh of relief that multiple crises were just avoided.

_ We really need to talk to HR, _ Hermione thought.  _ Or, get better at lying. _


	2. week ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a prenatal appointment and some introspection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had writer's block for months and then wrote this chapter in one sitting so what does that mean

Hermione wished there was a manual for when your relationship suddenly goes from “suppressing mutual feelings for two years because of your work situation and age difference” to “expecting a child together.” She figured there probably wasn’t a very large market for that sort of how-to guide, though.

They had always been incredibly close, unusually close. All the early mornings and late nights spent together in the confines of Remus’ office had pushed their orbits together, with witty quips over coffee and hushed conversations when the night felt too heavy to disrupt. It had been a bit of a shock to Hermione to stumble upon someone whose mind so perfectly complemented her own. As such, there had always been an ease to their interactions. Her gentle teasing when the winter winds ruffled his hair. His childish glee when rearranging her color-coded filing cabinets, and her feigned exasperation while they reorganized them. The casual brushing of hands and kisses on cheeks that left Hermione questioning what she thought she wanted.

They were simply… compatible.

Hermione sat in a red armchair with Remus by her side and the March edition of American Baby in her lap. She looked at him and smiled. He smiled back, but there was something behind his eyes. Fear. She knew it was behind hers, too.

She skimmed through the magazine pages, eyes unseeing. A tension had settled between her and Remus, for seemingly no reason other than the unexpected change in their relationship. Everything was still objectively good. They made breakfast together and laughed when Remus got his coat stuck in the apartment door. She woke him with peppered, fluttering kisses and he lulled her to sleep with delicate, beautiful phrases whispered against her skin. And yet, this new stage of their partnership was accompanied by growing pains that had been absent for the first two years.

“Hermione Granger?”

Remus’ fingertips brushed her back as she followed the nurse. She settled on the examination table, taking off her coat for the blood pressure cuff. He stood beside her, hands resting gently on the table, but his arms were stiff. The air in the room was rigid.

Hermione blamed her prenatal appointment for the newfound awkwardness. Simply being with Remus and relishing their budding romance was easy and golden. They were in the honeymoon phase, or whatever nonsense labels people attributed to relationships. If anything, the secrecy only made it more perfect because it meant no commentary from anyone else. But reminders of her pregnancy sometimes acted as a brick dropped on her stomach, rudely awaking her from her bliss. Pregnancy was reality was the risk of everything falling apart.

The nurse took her blood pressure and weighed her, chirping cheery little words of excitement with her questions of vitamins and fatigue and stress. Hermione attempted to match her tone and facial expressions, but her mind was elsewhere.

She thought of the uncertainty. Maybe that was why they hadn’t told anyone about their relationship yet, let alone the pregnancy. Maybe they both knew one south wind could shake their foundation, and they didn’t want that. They both wanted it to work. It would be easy to shout their news from the rooftops if they were composed of self-destructive tendencies. Alas, they were not, which made things more difficult.

There were moments when Hermione wished she didn’t care so deeply for Remus, that her heart didn’t beat wildly every time he smiled at her, that a sense of longing didn’t fill her when thinking of their future together. Then, it would be easy to walk away. It could fall apart and it wouldn’t hurt quite so much.

She didn’t want it to end. She so desperately wanted their relationship to work that a small part of her wished she wanted its demise just so the hurt would come and be done. Instead, she was stuck in a state of limbo between intense joy and fear of the joy’s end.

She wondered if he felt the same.

Somewhere during Hermione’s thought tunnel, her doctor had come in and was saying more cheery little words about green olives and cold gel that Hermione probably should have been paying attention to, but she just couldn’t bring herself into the present. She was occupied by fear and uncertainty. She pictured Remus walking away. She felt him kiss her for the last time. Would she know it would be the last time or would she fail to appreciate it in the moment? Her thoughts blossomed as if their breakup was an inevitability. Was it?

Remus’ fingers tightened on the table beside her. Perhaps he’d grow tired of her now that she was no longer forbidden fruit. He had won the game so what use was she to him now? She wasn’t giving Remus enough credit, she knew. Rationality had left the room as soon as two pink lines had appeared on that little plastic stick, fear rooting in its place. Her lungs contracted and she could have sworn they stayed empty for just a moment too long, and she was just about to excuse herself for some fresh air…

And then, a heartbeat.

She gasped, gripping Remus’ hand.

It was a drum beat to a song Hermione had never heard but wished to know for the rest of her life. The life she and Remus had created, the life she was growing inside her with every moment, was manifesting itself now for the first time outside of herself, where she could grasp it and hold onto it forever. She lightly touched her belly, flat and exposed.

Hermione looked up at Remus, locking mutually tear-filled eyes. The beating drum continued steadily, surrounding them in a bubble in which only the three of them mattered. For just a moment, Hermione cared of nothing else but the love in Remus’ eyes and the heartbeat of her unborn child in her ears. Remus raised their clasped hands to his lips and Hermione held his cheek in her palm.

“Remus,” she whispered.

“Hermione.”

And she knew.

The stalks of fear and uncertainty were still there, but they had shrunken. The light of Remus’ smile had withered them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty different from other things I've written but I actually really like it so I hope you all do too!
> 
> Also - I made a tumblr for writing stuff. (yay!) (it's writer-wren.tumblr.com) For now, I just have links to all my chapters posted, but I hope to post some more content over there soon! Plus, y'all can message me if you feel so inclined :)


End file.
